Taking Charge
by Biscuit50
Summary: What might have happened if Louisa had turned the new neighbors away, and she and Martin had enjoyed the benefits of a simple meal together? A road imagined, if not taken, from Season 3.
1. Chapter 1

Doc Martin, and these characters, are owned by Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing, except my limited imagination. As I watch certain episodes of the show, I find myself wondering why they didn't take different paths when opportunities presented themselves. This little story comes from Season Three, as I'm sure will be apparent to any interested readers. Biscuit

Taking Charge

"Louise … we were wondering if you could do us a huge favor?" The three of them, a man, woman and boy stood at her door way, the man holding a bottle of wine.

"It's Louisa and you are?" asked Louisa as she stood in the open doorway, neither inviting them in nor closing the door just yet.

"I'm Antony and this is my wife, Terri … We're your new neighbors next door," said Antony.

"And you're Sam and you start in my school next week," Louisa completed the introductions.

Terri said, "Our kitchen is filled with boxes and we're desperate to open this bottle. We were wondering if we could borrow a corkscrew?"

Ever accommodating, Louisa moved back as she said, "Sure, come in. Martin, this is Terri, Antony and Sam. They've just moved into old Mrs. Averil's place next door. This is Martin, Dr. Ellingham, our local GP."

When after another 15 minutes of chatting, Terri suggested that they invite themselves for dinner since their kitchen was in such a disarray from the move, Louisa had had enough. Very politely she said, "Well, actually, you've interrupted an important meeting between Dr. Ellingham and myself. I'd be happy to lend you plates, silverware, glasses … whatever you like. We can have a proper get together when you're more settled. Thanks for understanding."

With that, she collected plates, silverware, a roll of paper towels, and ushered them to the door.

Martin was impressed with the way she commanded the situation. "Thank you for doing that. I was at a loss, and frankly, they were getting on my nerves."

"Well, Martin, you are my guest in my home. I didn't invite them, I invited you. And the person I wanted to have dinner and a talk with this evening is you, not them," explained Louisa as she set about getting their food ready to grill. "I'm sorry that we got delayed, but I'm hoping that we won't eat too late for your personal schedule."

"Since you were so masterful in showing them the door, I can hardly be so ungracious as to bolt owing to a personal dining schedule. That would rude in the extreme. I'm not exactly known for being gracious or flexible, but I will agree that I'd like to stay and have dinner, even if it's a bit later than I normally prefer," said Martin. "What can I do to help?"

"Why don't you grill the fish? The fire has been ready, and I don't think it will actually take very long," said Louisa as she handed him the bowl where the fish had been marinating. "I'll finish up the vegetables and dress the salad. And I think I'll have another small glass of wine."

As they companionably prepared dinner, each focusing on something they were reasonably good at, it occurred to both that just being in each other's presence made them feel happy. They liked having something to do. It took the pressure off awkward conversation and misunderstanding. They had decided to move their dinner and conversation indoors. The wind had kicked up a little bit, and they really didn't want to be under the visual scrutiny of Louisa's new neighbors.

Being inside and sitting at Louisa's table over dinner was both comforting and intimate. The food was delicious, and they enjoyed sharing a meal.

As they were finishing their meal, Louisa asked Martin a question: "Martin, can I ask you a question? Why did you accept my dinner invitation? What were you hoping to accomplish?"

Martin turned a bit red and he stammered a response. "Well, you invited me and I do have to eat and eating together can be a pleasurable experience … I don't think I thought beyond that, except that we've tried repeatedly to get together for something simple like a meal, and we're always interrupted. I suppose, if I thought about it, that I had hoped that in the privacy of your home, we would be spared that annoyance. For that matter, why did you invite me?"

"Don't be coy, and don't answer a question with a question, please," she responded. "But since you asked, I'll admit that I too want to spend some uninterrupted time with you. I keep thinking that you and I have some kind of … connection. But we'll never know what it is because we spend so little time together, the 'whatever it is' hasn't had time to take root, or develop or anything. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it does," Martin admitted. "And let me say … thank you for inviting me. I agree, it's been bloody impossible for us to have 10 minutes' quiet time together, without being interrupted by my practice, or a villager or malingerer or one of your students or friends. This village is unbelievably intrusive. One of the things that has always struck me is how different you are from everyone else here. Although you grew up here, you seem to aspire to more things than just being from Portwenn, if you know what I mean. I'm not trying to be offensive, just saying you're more ambitious in a good way, than the average person here."

"I'm not so very different, Martin," said Louisa. "In fact, it's one of the things that has made me doubt whether you could really be attracted to me. I can't hide the fact that Cornwall lacks the sophistication of town … and perhaps in your exile here, you would not want to be permanently tied to the place by getting involved with a local, like me." She looked away as she said this, for it was somewhat of an embarrassing thought to her.

Martin was surprised by this admission for several reasons. First, although he thought of her as having some prickliness and insecurities, he always focused more on his insecurities than hers. She seemed to fit in so well in this village. Second, despite his "exile" here from London, he loved the beauty of Portwenn. True, he missed being a celebrated surgeon, but he didn't miss the milieu, the competitiveness of it. When he thought about it, he was glad to have resurrected his career by changing direction and he had chosen a beautiful place in which to do it. So the villagers were annoying, so the intrusions into his space and time were daily. But there were benefits too … being closer to Joan, his only real family, opening the door onto the harbor, and wonderful sea air, to name a few. And of course, being near Louisa, who kept trying to spend time with him, despite his attempts to avoid getting involved.

"Louisa, you asked me what I was hoping to accomplish by coming to dinner. I suppose I was hoping that by spending a little private time together, we might just get a little more comfortable around each other. Also, what we are to each other might become more apparent," Martin said. "One thing that concerns me is that, on the surface, we have so little in common … other than living near each other in this remote village and, I suppose, being single."

"I was thinking along the same lines," confessed Louisa. "As much as I've resisted it, I'm undeniably attracted to you. I've told you that, and I've invited you a couple of times to events or dinner … Martin, I don't know how I can be clearer. Are you interested in me or us at all?"

"Well, I am here. I think it's obvious that I like you and am attracted to you … but really, who wouldn't be attracted to you. You are … so very beautiful," Martin said, his voice dropping, as if he was suddenly shy and unable to state a simple fact, although he kept his eyes trained on hers as he said it.

"Martin, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me … sober," said Louisa as she closed the distance between them, moving well into Martin's personal space, also without breaking her gaze at him.

As their lips met, tentatively and so gently at first, then hungrily as their kiss deepened and their bodies pressed against each other, they each felt the thrill of doing something they'd fantasized about for quite some time. The intensity of their kisses increased, and they felt a bit breathless when they finally pulled apart, although they were still holding each other.

Neither wanted to break the spell of the moment by talking or moving or anything. Finally Louisa suggested that they sit together on the couch. Once he sat down, she found a suitable place on his lap. "Martin, that was great. I knew we had it in us to be really good together. Didn't you?" she asked.

He replied, "If you must know, it's even better than I imagined it would be. I know you said before that we kissed the night we shared that wine, but Louisa, I honestly remember very little of that night. This time I'm sober, as you have already pointed out, and kissing you is a thousand times better than anything I could imagine. In fact, I like having you sitting on my lap, where I can wrap my arms around you and enjoy just being this close."

Louisa melted at hearing him say these things. She was dangerously close to … well, to doing something he might not approve of. She didn't want to spook him, however thrilled she was with the giant leap forward their relationship had just taken.

"Let's take things at a pace we're comfortable with. We've taken this long to get this far, let's savor the moments together and let's plan for at least a few more of them," she said, laughing and hugging him, as she kissed his face, and neck, and nuzzled his ear.

"That tickles," Martin said as he grabbed her closer. "Stop. Don't stop … well, don't stop completely." Neither had ever felt like this before. They enjoyed the closeness they felt, they enjoyed the privacy which, up until now had eluded them. Each felt a pang of regret that they hadn't gotten to this point a little sooner.

"I'd better go. I require a full eight hours of sleep and it's getting to be that time," he said as he stood up. He didn't want her to think that he was like every other man she might have known, only focused on one thing. Nor did he want to take advantage of her, however much they both might want him to. No, what he wanted was to treat her with respect and take things slow.

"You don't have to go so soon on my account," said Louisa. "But if you insist on it, let me say this. I'm so glad you came for dinner tonight. And I am even gladder that we didn't let my new neighbors derail our plans, and that you were flexible in your dining conventions. Martin, I think we've crossed a line and I think this is a good development. Don't you think it's a good thing?"

"Of course I do. Louisa, I'm going to leave now. Thank you for a lovely evening. Next time, perhaps I can persuade you to come to my house for dinner. I'm actually a decent cook, and I would enjoy preparing a meal for us," Martin said as he led her to the door. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. You were right, this was fun." And with a kiss on her cheek, and then her lips, he turned and went out into the night.

He walked confidently down the hill in the dark, thinking about what had just transpired. Louisa clearly wanted to be with him. Kissing her was exquisite. The thought of her made him warm all over as he walked back up the hill, past the restaurant, and let himself into Fern Cottage.

As she closed the door, Louisa had a smile on her face that wouldn't go away. Martin was a perfect gentleman, but the passion that lurked beneath the surface when they kissed was absolutely palpable. She could sense how turned on he was by kissing her. It was thrilling to know they had crossed a line tonight. What would tomorrow bring?


	2. Chapter 2

Doc Martin, and these characters, are owned by Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing, except my limited imagination. As I watch certain episodes of the show, I find myself wondering why they didn't take different paths when opportunities presented themselves. This little story comes from Season Three, as I'm sure will be apparent to any interested readers. Biscuit

**Taking Charge**

Chapter Two

The next day, Martin awoke from a night's sleep that had been restless at times, while he lay awake imagining being with Louisa, and finally, exhaustion claiming him in the early hours of the morning, only for his alarm to ring insistently at 6:30 as it did every day. He smiled to himself as he lay in bed and thought about the previous evening's activities. He wondered what Louisa was doing at this very moment.

Louisa too was an early riser. She had slept a little better than Martin, since the prior evening she and Martin had finally advanced their standing, if only a little bit. She wanted to call him but didn't want to appear to be too eager. She had many meetings scheduled at the school today, with several teachers and parents. But as mundane as the day's activities promised to be, she had an inner excitement that no amount of normal daily behavior could suppress. She felt oddly alive, as if life suddenly took on a million brighter hues and colors.

Martin felt a similar glow. With him, it appeared to outsiders as perhaps a little better humor, and maybe a smidgen more patience than normal. It wasn't much to an unpracticed eye. To Aunty Joan, who stopped by with a few fresh vegetables on her rounds, the change in his demeanor was immediately apparent.

"You're in good spirits today, Martin. What happened, did you run into Louisa at the village?" she inquired, not really expecting an answer. She was as surprised as ever, when he did respond.

"No, nothing like that," Martin said.

"Come on, it's clear you're in a good mood. All I'm asking is, did you finish reassembling a clock or eat a particularly good breakfast this morning or have a stronger than normal espresso?" Joan pushed again.

"I had dinner last night with Louisa if you must know," Martin admitted while a blush appeared on his cheeks. "She invited me and I went and that was that."

"Blushing like that means that something more happened," observed Joan. "It's all right Martin, I won't betray your confidence. I've been hoping you and Louisa would at least explore whether you have a shot at something more than just co-existing in a small village."

"Thank you, Aunty Joan," said Martin. "I think we may just explore that very thing, as you say. May I ask a favor? Could you please keep it to yourself? I'm sure that at some point we may wish to be more open about what's going on, but right now, we're just getting started. Everyone in this village is unbelievably nosy, and that could be fatal to our fledgling efforts at getting together. Would you do this for me?"

"Of course I will. I'll say no more about it," said Joan. "Good luck, and if you ever need any advice, please feel free to ask."

"You are the only person I would consult on matters such as this, in … the event that I would consult anyone at all," said Martin. "Thank you."

The day proceeded at an unbearably slow pace, despite both of them being quite busy with their respective jobs. Louisa's work day ended sooner than Martin's; his surgery was open until 5:30 while her official work day was finished by 4:30. They had not made plans for a further meeting, so the uncertainty of "what next" was on both their minds.

When Martin finished his surgery for the day, he called Louisa from the privacy of his office. She answered on the second ring.

"Louisa, it's Martin. I wanted to call and see how you are today," Martin said. "How are you?"

"Gosh, Martin, I'm glad you did. I'm doing all right, better now that you've called," Louisa admitted. "How was your day?"

"Long, tedious, patients who come in with one complaint, only to discover root causes that are … well, perhaps I shouldn't go into these details. Suffice it to say, I had one or two other things on my mind today," Martin said.

"You did? Such as what exactly?" Louisa questioned, although she was glad to hear it.

"Well. … We didn't make a plan of when we are getting together next, nor do we have any kind of pattern of basic interaction … do I call you, do you call me, when is best to call, should I stop by, do you want me to stop by … you can see how this kind of illogical thinking leads to nowhere productive, and underlying it all, I really wanted to see you today," Martin admitted somewhat sheepishly.

Louisa was glad to hear that too, as well as the uncertainty in his voice. Nice to know he's going through a little of that as well as me, she thought to herself. Aloud, she said, "Martin, you can be rather surprising. I'm looking forward to more such revelations. And in answer to your questions … you're welcome to call me any time and I hope you do. I normally finish work around 4:30, then do some shopping on the way home, if I haven't done it first thing in the morning. Sometimes I go for a walk, if the day is really nice and I need the exercise. You may stop by as you like. Since we live so close by, it's easy to do. I'm not always here, but when I am, you are welcome to come by."

Now it was Martin's turn to be glad for the open ended invitation. "Thanks. Would I seem just too … pathetic if I said I'd like to see you this evening? Yesterday I said I'd like to cook you dinner. Earlier today, I did lay in supplies for it, if you were available tonight. I realize it's a last minute invitation, so don't feel obligated, but I'd really like it if you came over for a little while, even if you can't stay for dinner."

Wow. Had the ground opened up beneath her feet, Louisa would not have been more shocked. "Martin, this is unexpected but in a really good way. Thank you. I would love to have dinner with you. Can I bring anything?" she inquired.

"No, just you is fine. See you in half an hour, then?" Martin abruptly hung up the phone because now he really had to get busy preparing dinner.

He went out to the kitchen, put on his apron over his suit, washed his hands and began preparing dinner. A little while later, there was a knock on the back door. When he opened it, he was instantly glad to see Louisa, who was actually carrying a bunch of flowers from the florist in town.

"These are for you … for inviting me to dinner," Louisa said laughingly as she came in, and kissed him on the cheek. She was wearing a printed blue and red dress, with a red sweater on top. "Martin, do you do everything in a suit? Don't you worry about getting it dirty from the cooking? Do you ever let you hair down, so to speak, and take off the suit?"

"During the day, I prefer to be properly dressed, and in my profession, the appropriate attire is a suit so that's what I wear. Simple as that," Martin said.

"Nothing simple about it. It's not really practical all the time, is it?" Louisa questioned? "I mean, yes, for your surgery hours, a suit is appropriate. For your non-surgery hours and activities, casual clothes would also be appropriate. You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in anything but a suit, except that night with Peter Cronk when you didn't wear a tie and eventually ended up covered in blood. You changed into a scrub top or whatever you call those things. You looked very handsome."

Martin blushed at the compliment. "Louisa, I feel comfortable in suits. Besides, in any normal relationship, no one cares what the man looks like, as long as he's not derelict or something. You look lovely as always, so that's the end of it. May I get you a glass of wine before we eat?"

Changing the subject was a good tactic on his part, Martin reasoned. Turn to a subject less … about him. He hated being under any personal scrutiny, even by Louisa. As he poured a glass of chardonnay for her, he asked what she'd been up to that day.

"Well I had a conference with Terri and Antony, about Sam, who will start next week at the school. They have some really odd views on raising children. You may recall he said something about being a psychologist or something. A lot of mumbo jumbo if you ask me. She's very deferential to him, probably not as educated as he is. I'm guessing Sam's completely out of control with parents like that," Louisa sighed as she said it. "He seemed a bit willful yesterday, kicking that can into the house and observing no normal social boundaries. Whole family struck me as odd."

"I agree with you there. They were unbearable. The father was so full of himself with his condescending attitude. I found myself wanting to slap him just to shut him up," Martin agreed. "But that's not exactly professional behavior and they are your new neighbors. … still, they're very annoying."

"Let's not talk about them," said Louisa. "I want to talk about us."

Martin gulped, although he was privately glad she brought up the very subject he wished to discuss as well. Prior to them "getting together," he did everything in his power not to discuss the "us" that was them. Now it was of intense personal interest, although he had a hard time broaching the subject.

"I agree, I'd like to talk about us. But our dinner is nearly done. Why don't we eat, and after dinner, we can talk as much as you like," Martin promised. "But first, let me give you a proper welcome to my home." With that, he put his arms around her, and hugged her, which he'd been wanting to do all day, just to remind himself that this was real, and kissed her lightly on the mouth. "I'm really glad you're here."


	3. Chapter 3

Doc Martin, and these characters, are owned by Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing, except my limited imagination. As I watch certain episodes of the show, I find myself wondering why they didn't take different paths when opportunities presented themselves. This little story comes from Season Three, as I'm sure will be apparent to any interested readers. Biscuit

**Taking Charge**

Chapter Three

"Martin, this is delicious. You're quite a wonderful chef, it would seem. Where did you learn to cook?" Louisa inquired, genuinely interested.

"I taught myself the basics many years ago, reading cookbooks to get recipes for the things I really liked or thought would offer the best nutrition. Over the years, I perfected techniques for the things I eat the most, I suppose," Martin said quietly. "When one eats by oneself all the time, and at odd hours due to surgeries running late and such, one develops coping mechanisms. In the end, although a less-is-more approach is probably the most healthful, I find I prefer my food cooked to some level, seasoned naturally with fresh herbs and so that's how I prepare most of my food. I'm more of a fish and vegetables kind of guy than a meat and potatoes sort, but that's not the worst sort of person to be. I find that here in Cornwall, I'm able to get really good ingredients for the kind of food I like to prepare."

Yes, thought Louisa emphatically. I've totally scored on this one, because a man who can cook and cook well is worth his weight in gold. She liked to cook, but preparing food for one had never been particularly inspiring, even if she'd done it since her father left many years ago.

"I must admit, it's very sexy, Martin, to be with a man who knows his way around a kitchen," Louisa admitted. "Do you have other talents in the kitchen … or are your other talents best displayed in other rooms of the house?"

Martin couldn't suppress a small smile at where this conversation was headed. Although repartee was not his natural style, nor was double entendre something he engaged in deliberately, he was starting to see how conversation could create a good mood between them.

"My so called talents are not limited to the surgery or the kitchen," Martin said. "I would have to rate my talents in other rooms as adequate, or so I've been told. Apparently I'm handy with a broom and dust bin, and keep an orderly linen cupboard. Let's see, then there's the bedroom. Yes, I've been known to have a well organized closet and I make my bed meticulously every day. Does that answer your question?"

"It's a start. I believe you're actually flirting with me, Martin. This is unusual behavior from you. Do I need to inspect you to determine if you've become ill? Because that's the only reason I can think of which would explain this abnormal behavior on your part," Louisa offered. "Although I'm not a qualified nurse, I can report symptoms to you for diagnosis. What do you say?"

"Submitting to substandard medical care is not really something I encourage, but in extreme conditions, one must take the help that is available. All right, examine away," said Martin. And with that pronouncement, he stood up, walked over to the couch in the living room, sat down and patted the cushion next him for Louisa to occupy. She complied, and turned to face him, with a large smile on her face.

She pressed her lips to his forehead, the universal mother's method for testing a baby's temperature. "The patient seems a little warm to the touch," she reported. "His forehead is warm, just below his ear, his pulse is throbbing and again, he seems a bit warm. But that could be the house temperature, because all of a sudden, I'm feeling warm too," she said. "On the other hand, perhaps I need to remove some of his clothing, to assist in reducing his temperature, and to gather additional symptoms."

Martin put his arms around her and pulled her closer, kissing her passionately, and as Louisa had stated, the temperature in the room ignited. The conversation came to an abrupt end as they explored other methods of communication, mostly of the non-verbal kind.

When they finally pulled apart, after 30 or 40 minutes of kissing, touching, hugging and just reveling in doing something each had dreamed about, they were somewhat tongue tied. Neither wanted to spoil the moment, neither wanted the moment to end … what to do?

"I just knew it," said Louisa after a few long seconds of silence.

"Knew what?" inquired Martin.

"That I would love kissing you and being kissed by you," Louisa admitted as she looked into his eyes. "I love being held by you, and kissed and all of that. You're just as brilliant as I imagined."

"Well, superior love-making is really all about knowing and stimulating the right body parts at the right time, to create a cascade of intense feelings and maximum pleasure," said Martin, switching into his doctor mode for a minute. "Glad I can put that medical knowledge to practical use in a good field study."

"What? I'm a field study? I think I'm a little more than that," protested Louisa, pushing back from him, without much success as he gripped her tighter. "OK, maybe I could be persuaded to serve as your study subject in the love-making field, as you call it, but could you make an effort not to be so clinical in your observations?"

"I could, but that sort of defeats the purpose of study at all," Martin smiled as he said it. "Still, if I am to secure a proper study subject, and conduct any kind of rigorous study, I'm going to have to set the experiments up properly. You may be required to spend many more hours with me, engaged in various types of love-making … so that we can rate each experience, and determine those which we would like to repeat, augment, modify, etc. What do you think? Are you ready for that type of sustained experimentation?"

"In the interest of promoting education and studies of all kinds, I'm going to volunteer to be your only subject. How will you determine the parameters of the study? Should we collaborate on what and when and how or do you wish to dictate all activities?" asked Louisa. "I just want to understand what I'm committing to."

"I'm open to your suggestions. Since this is a closed environment experiment, the variables will be the types of activities, and I suppose we'll have to determine a scale of minimum to maximum pleasure … and we'll have to rate each activity. For instance, when I kiss you here, on your neck, repeatedly, and gently move up towards your mouth, do you feel no pleasure, some pleasure, lots of pleasure or do you want to begin removing my clothes?" asked Martin.

"You know, I like the action part of this study. The talking/rating part could be done, with a full questionnaire within 24 hours of the activity, so as not to impede the progress of … oh my God, that's a great spot, don't stop," cried Louisa as he whispered into her ear, and slowly rubbed his hands up under her blouse. Every nerve in her body was alive and alert. Suddenly neither of them wanted to talk any more.


End file.
